


Flying High

by OceanTheSoulRebel



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Fluff, Flying, Gen, M/M, pre-kerberos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-22
Updated: 2020-01-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:28:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22365640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OceanTheSoulRebel/pseuds/OceanTheSoulRebel
Summary: Thanks for reading!This story is part of theLLF Comment Project, which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. I invite and appreciate feedback, including:Short commentsLong commentsQuestions“<3” as extra kudosReader-reader interactionI reply to comments, but sometimes slowly, because that’s how it be in this bitch of a life.If you don’t want a response, feel free to tag your comment with /Whisper or #Whisper so I know not to bother you!Come poke me onTumblrorTwitter!
Relationships: Keith & Shiro (Voltron), Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 20





	Flying High

“That was amazing, Keith!” Shiro laughs the words as Keith climbs out of the sim, scrambling out behind him. 

Keith blushes. The program was a long one, starting with a mad dash through the Kuiper belt and ending with a landing on some unnamed dwarf planet that sat just outside the solar system. It was technically a rescue mission program, but he and Shiro snuck into the simulations lab alone on a Saturday night and made do. 

“Thanks,” Keith mutters, tossing the hair from his eyes bashfully. He curls his fingers into jittery fists. 

“No, I mean it, that was… that was amazing. You’re amazing, Keith.” 

The starstruck quality recedes from Shiro’s voice but the gentle awe remains. It warms something deep in Keith’s brain, his nervous system working double-time. 

He’s seventeen, almost eighteen, and it shows. Nearly two years in at the Garrison and his crush on Shiro hasn’t waned since it bloomed, heavy and confusing, the day Takashi Shirogane waltzed into the local police station, with only a smile and his good name, and came out with two hands full of squirrelly, stupid boy. 

“Thanks,” Keith says again, blushing furiously. 

But Shiro either doesn’t notice or doesn’t look, and Keith loves him all the more for it. Shiro rakes a hand through his hair with a smile. “I think I saw a two-pilot low-altitude aircraft in the hangar, wanna see if they’ll let us check it out?”

“I—” Keith can’t seem to pick something to say, swallowing his tongue as he is. It’s enough that Shiro takes extra time for him when he can, reserving a couple of hours late in the evenings for sim practice, or lunch, or a hang-out between classes and appointments and study hours. But it’s when Shiro spends his day off with Keith, devoting his time and attention, that Keith really has a hard time. And the best time. Because, really, who could blame Keith for soaking in that attention? 

The fact that it comes with near-weekly scraps in the hallways doesn’t exactly help matters, though, being accused of… well. Keith tries not to think about the snide remarks that have been thrown his way because of the friendship he’s developed with Shiro. He can’t tell Shiro about all that, or else these precious moments might disappear. 

“Oh! No pressure, just if you’re curious. Maybe next time.” Shiro’s smile widens, a touch brittle. 

The moments they have together are priceless all the same, and worth scrapping over. “I do,” Keith says quickly, “I really do. Let’s go?” 

They talk as they make their way to the hangar. Keith’s classes, Shiro’s new flight-sim teaching job, the upcoming Kerberos mission. Shiro is especially excited about that, his whole face lighting up, uncaring of who looks and sees. Keith never sees him this animated except when they’re alone, and that knowledge is like a soothing balm on his nerves. 

So, he’s kinda in love with the resident golden boy. Who cares? So is everyone. But not everyone can say they see him when he’s out of Teacher Mode, or when he’s stuffed himself so stupid with mac-and-cheese that he’s turning green, or when he’s so excited about the joy of flying that he all but floats on his way to the hangars. 

Love and crushing are both fine and well but they didn’t get him here. Shiro’s trust and belief, and, more importantly, Shiro’s friendship, are all more important. 

Keith curls his hands into tight fists at his sides and relishes the way his nails bite into his palms. 

They talk and talk until they reach the new jet. It’s a little thing, really, just barely a two-seater, about half-again the size of the Garrison’s single-pilot line of jets. Shiro talks to one of the head engineers and manages to come back with a face-cracking grin. 

“They said we can take it out! Wanna see how she works, hotshot?” Shiro says with a laugh.

“If you think you can handle it, old-timer,” Keith retorts back, already clambering toward the plane. 

Shiro grabs him by the scruff of his collar. “Hey now,” he chuckles, “age before talent. Respect your elders, young one.” 

“Pfft. Youth before beauty.” 

The words are out of his mouth before he can stop them, and Keith mentally slaps himself. Shiro’s hand falls away and Keith scurries up the ladder, intending to hide in the cockpit until the end of time. 

Shiro only groans behind him. “Don’t tell me you’ve secretly bought into that, too,” he says, and Keith can hear the frown in his voice. “I earned my way to where I am, fair and square.” 

Keith peeks up from the shadowed interior of the cockpit, confused. “What was that?” 

“I--oh. Oh, never mind.” Shiro blushes and scrubs his hands down his face. “Just rambling. You know how us old folks are, always talking to themselves.” He climbs into the cockpit and motions for Keith to take the pilot’s seat, with Shiro taking that of the co-pilot. “As it should be,” he says when Keith objects, shaking his head. “You need to practice being the lead pilot. It’s your trajectory, I’m sure of it.”

The ground crew helps lead them in taxiing from the hangar and soon they are readying for takeoff. 

“Are you sure about this?” Keith asks. His hands sweat on the controls. 

“Oh God, no. Iverson will have my head.” Shiro’s laugh is full and bright, vibrant. It sinks low in Keith’s belly and stays, warm, comforting. Familiar. “But we’re already here,” he says, tossing a wink Keith’s way, “so we might as well enjoy it. Let’s go!” 

Together they get the plane down the runway, gravity already pressing them into their seats. Keith lets Shiro coax him into lazy rolls and twists as they gain altitude. It isn’t until they’re cruising at some 10,000 feet that Keith finally feels comfortable, the claustrophobia of earth falling away. 

“Wanna see what this baby can do?” he asks, and Shiro smiles. 

“Gun it.”

And Keith does, urging the throttle open. Shiro's impressed laughter fills the cockpit and buoys something in him. 

_I love this,_ Keith thinks fiercely. He glances at Shiro, finds Shiro's smile, and turns his gaze back to the skies. _I think I love you,_ Keith thinks but doesn't say.

It's enough for him. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> This story is part of the LLF Comment Project, which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. I invite and appreciate feedback, including:
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * “<3” as extra kudos
>   * Reader-reader interaction
> 

> 
> I reply to comments, but sometimes slowly, because that’s how it be in this bitch of a life.
> 
> If you don’t want a response, feel free to tag your comment with /Whisper or #Whisper so I know not to bother you!
> 
> Come poke me on [Tumblr](https://ocean-in-my-rebel-soul.tumblr.com) or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Ocean_SoulRebel)!


End file.
